New York Girl (formerly known as Maple Street)

Chapter Twenty Five

I couldn't sleep. Just when I thought I had got into a comfortable position, I willed myself to drift off - but it didn't work.

 A song stuck in my head, and it played its sombre tune over and over. In fact, there were two; one of them a really lonely melody and the other so full of promise.

Staring up at the ceiling, I admired the reflection from the Moon that shone so brightly against the lilac walls, opening my eyes for a moment, I grumbled in frustration. I had to sleep. I needed to sleep.

But for some reason, all I could think of and all I could see in my mind’s eye was Ethan. It had been way over a month since I’d set eyes on him, but his face was still so vivid in my memory - the way his eyes slanted at the corners, the deep slits on both sides of his cheeks and those arms..

The songs became louder and as I flipped my pillow over – I was comforted temporarily by its coldness. But my mouth kept filling up and I had to swallow every few seconds to keep from overflowing.

 For one blissful moment, just when I thought I was finally drifting off the overflowing came back and with it a wave of nausea.

I realised it was time to stop fighting, so I slumped against the bed board - listening to the conflicting melodies no longer wishing I would fall asleep, instead praying for morning to come.

Walking into the kitchen I noticed Dad already at the table, slurping his coffee and reading the newspaper.

'Morning, Dad.'

'Morning, Sweetheart.' He replied, his eyes fixed on the sports section.

'What are you up to today?'

'Huh?'

'What are you, oh never mind.' I said, pouring out some coffee.

Sitting on the chair opposite, I watched on as he read with such passion. His mouth moved with each word and this always made me giggle.

Folding the paper down in front of him, he peered over at me and pulled the funniest face. 'And what may I ask, do you find so humorous?'

'I’ve missed you Dad.’

'You look a little peaky Lucy. Is everything Okay?'

'I just had trouble sleeping that’s all.’

He continued on with the funny face thing but the stare went from bad humour to fatherly concern.

'Dad, can I ask you something?'

'Sure you can.'

'Why did you cheat on Mom?'

His eyes widened and I could tell I had taken him by surprise.

'Where did that come from? You know we can't discuss that, especially when your Mother could come in any minute.'

'I just want to know why.'

There was no more jocular expressions, instead he dipped his head low, pushing his chair further into the table – at first I thought he was going to blank out the question and continue reading the paper but instead he removed his glasses, adjusting them so they sat on the base of his nose. 'Nothing in this world is perfect. You kids. You watch love movies and think you know it all.’ Pointing at the kitchen door he continued as if Mom were standing there. 'You know that Woman? I loved her the moment I saw her. There was no other woman like her. All the others were so you know giving. But your Mother? Oh No. She had fire.'